Lessons from the
Teacher
by Bill DeArmond
DAY ONE: Orientation
On Monday, the
Teacher, Tasselus, called the class to order,
took the roll and began his lecture: “Students,
do you know what I’m going to talk about
today?”
They answered him: “We have no idea.”
The Teacher responded: “Well, if you have no
idea at all, then what’s the use of my
talking to you?”
With that the Teacher picked up his notes and
left the classroom.
On Wednesday, the Teacher called the class to
order, took the roll and began his lecture:
“Students, do you know what I’m going
to talk about today?”
They answered him: “Yes, we do.”
The Teacher responded: “Well, if you already
know, then what’s the use of my telling you?”
With that the Teacher picked up his notes and
left the classroom.
On Friday, the Teacher called the class to order,
took the roll and began his lecture: “Students,
do you know what I’m going to talk about
today?”
This time they were ready, having discussed their
answer in advance in the snack bar: “Some of
us do, and some of us don’t.”
The Teacher responded: “In that case, let
those who do tell those who don’t.”
With that the Teacher picked up his notes and
left the classroom.
When he got his monthly check the Teacher couldn’t
understand why the Dean had docked him a week’s
pay.
DAY
FOUR: Very Like a…
And the
Teacher desired to instruct in the way of a
parable. He asked them to gather around his desk
and blindfolded them. Since an elephant would not
fit through the door, he placed his dog, Zohar,
on the table and asked each to touch it and tell
him what it was.
One student touched the tail and declared: “It
is very much like a Dog.”
Another scratched the head and declared: “It
is very much like a Dog.”
The third brushed its back and declared: “It
is very much like a Dog.”
And the last shook its paw and declared: “It
is very much like a Dog.”
Then the Teacher exclaimed: “Congratulations!
You have all appropriately felt and accurately
described the essence of Dog. Now, what breed is
it?”
And the students began to quarrel among
themselves as to what “kind” of Dog
they had experienced until the Teacher stopped
them: “When you were blind to the
differences you all correctly sensed the basic
nature of Dog. Yet you quickly fell into
dissension over the specifics. Now, trust in your
inner eye, go forth into the world and try not to
be stupid.”
DAY
FIVE: Religion Is Like a Pizza
When the
Teacher entered the classroom two students were
still debating their positions on the “Essence
of Dog” analogy from the previous class.
After giving each of them a time-out, he tried to
interject some ecumenical harmony back into the
discussion.
“Think of religion like a pizza,” he
began. “Pizza manifests in many forms, but
the denominational heart of all pizzas
is the trinity of Crust, Sauce, and Cheese.
“Pizza comes in many sizes and shapes with
diverse doctrinal toppings, and wars have been
fought over appropriate devotional cheeses. Some
still cling to the traditional crust; some have
converted to New Age thinness; while others have
evolved to the pretentious piety of double-stuffed
crusts.
“But at their fundamental, artery-clogging
essence, they all emanate from the same
primordial baker. Only a Minion of Lasagna would
deny the unifying power of pizza.”
DAY
SEVEN: The Unanswerable Question
And a student
named Donald waived his hand in the air like a
bunny on crack and said: “Teacher, I’m
going to ask you a question. Can you answer it?”
And the Teacher replied: “Please ask your
question.”
And the student snickered and said: “I’ve
already asked it.”
And the Teacher, knowing that the student was a
smart ass, replied: “I’ve already
answered it.”
And the student looked puzzled and asked: “What
did you answer?”
And the Teacher fired back: “What did you
ask?”
And the student gave up: “I asked nothing.”
And the Teacher smiled: “And I answered
nothing. Now let me ask you a question: Who’s
on first?”
DAY
NINE: Childish
And the
Teacher suddenly looked up from his lecture notes
from which he had been droning on and on for half
an hour and said: “When I was a child, I
spoke as a child; I understood as a child; I
thought as a child. But when I became a man, I
put away childish things.
“And Eric, if you don’t stop playing
Grand Theft Auto on your computer, I’m going
to throw your laptop out the window.”
DAY
TWELVE: The Good of the Few
And the
Teacher was called to the Dean’s office
again to answer some complaints.
“Some students have objected that you are
teaching dead white men.”
The Teacher scratched his ear and said: “Huh?”
“Shakespeare and Milton and T.S. Eliot.”
“So?”
“They think it is colonialist and offensive
to people of color.”
“Ok.”
“And they don’t want to take any tests
or be graded or at least don’t get a grade
below a C.”
“But that encourages them to do mediocre
work.”
“Doesn’t matter. It increases their
anxiety. They say if you don’t change, they
want me to fire you. What do you have to say for
yourself?”
But Tasselus, who had tenure, replied: “I
say we tell the students to suck it up or leave.
This isn’t day care.”
The Dean stammered: “But they are many and
you are one.”
“Absolutely. There are thousands of colleges
that will coddle to their needs. I am but one old
man alone. At my age where will I find another
job?”
With that, the Dean sighed, closed the Teacher’s
file, and motioned him out the door.
DAY
THIRTEEN: Zhuang Zi Was an Idiot
And the
teacher seemed particularly hung over and began
to ramble: “Last night I dreamed I was a
hamburger sizzling on a grill. Then I awoke and
found out I was a man. But what am I in truth? A
man who dreams he is a hamburger? Or a hamburger
who dreams he is a man? Or am I just full of crap?”
He shook his head and declared: “Zhuang Zi
was an idiot.”
One student raised her hand and questioned:
“Wasn’t she in Crouching Tiger,
Hidden Dragon?”
And another asked: “Is this on the test?”
DAY
EIGHTEEN: A Byrd in the Hand
And the
Teacher plugged his twelve-string guitar into his
Gibson amp and began to sing:
“To everything there is a season, and a time
for every purpose under heaven:
A time to sleep and a time to get up;
A time to fight and a time to run;
A time to log on and a time to log off;
A time to complain and a time to vote;
A time to procrastinate and a time to do homework;
A time to retire the Stones and a time for their
reunion tour.”
And the students responded:
“Turn! Turn! Turn!”
And the Teacher went into the second verse:
“A time to wax on and a time to wax off;
A time to be a Belieber and a time to deport his
ass;
A time to wear plaid and a time to be sensible;
A time to watch The Walking Dead and a time for
the Kardashians;
A time to bet ‘em and a time to fold ‘em;
A time to eat pizza and a time to eat pizza;
And a time for paper and plastic together.”
And then the fuse blew.
DAY
TWENTY: Certitude
One student angrily thrust his hand in the air:
“I am a Yugoist. My parents are Yugoists. So
were their parents. This is my truth and I resent
you asking me to challenge those beliefs.”
And the Teacher scratched his expanding stomach
and asked: “Tell me, Rush, do you have a car?”
This set the student back a bit, but his anger
was still in his reply: “Damn straight. I
got a ’97 Dodge Stratus.”
“You buy the 4- or 6-cylander?”
“Six. The fours tend to blow the dead
gaskets.”
“How did you find it?”
“What’d’ya mean?”
“Did you buy the first car you saw?”
“No. I checked out a dozen other cars before
I bought it. I went on the Internet and looked at
the safety ratings. Checked Consumer Reports and
Kelley’s.”
“What kind of car do your parents own?”
“A 2000 Chevy Malibu.”
“So you own a different model than your
parents?”
“Yep.”
“Then don’t you think you should choose
your religion as carefully as you did your car?”
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